broken down and cried on the morning that letter had come. It had been a precious last gift from her mother at a point when she had needed it most, and she had made a conscious decision that she would use it to make a better life for her and her child.
And she’d done that. She’d known if she just banked the money and used it to pay rent that it would be gone in no time, that she needed to make it work for her, so she had decided to start her own business. She’d found a little bijou café to rent and had started out just selling teas and coffees and her homemade cakes. By the time Nathan was born she had been able to afford to take on another girl to help her. Six months after that she had extended her premises, and with the help of a bank loan had turned the business into a thriving restaurant with a small studio apartment attached for her and Nathan.
She’d sent Noreen a letter at that point telling her she was doing well and had even sent some photographs of Nathan, but her aunt had never acknowledged them and had never visited. Probably frightened in case she was asked for help.
She would never be that desperate, Victoria promised herself fiercely. She was a survivor—she would find a way around her problems. After all, she’d got them this far. And no matter how broke she was she would always find a way to provide for Nathan, to care for him and love him.
Nathan wanted to push his pram himself and she allowed him to take it over, smiling to herself as she watched the toddler’s unsteady yet resolute progress. He’d only just turned two. But he was filled with a stubborn sense of purpose that reminded her a lot of herself.
Her phone rang and she fished it out from her pocket with a feeling of hope. Maybe it would be Antonio Cavelli—maybe he’d read her business proposition and had second thoughts about it.
‘Ms Heart, this is Tom Roberts calling you from Lancier Enterprises. Just reminding you of our appointment today at four-thirty.’
Of course it wasn’t Antonio Cavelli; he’d told her he wasn’t interested in her proposal. Victoria swallowed on a hard painful knot in her throat. But she wasn’t ready to admit defeat and sign away her precious business yet, she told herself fiercely. Especially to Lancier! ‘Ah, yes, Mr Roberts. I rang and left a message with your secretary earlier today, stating that I was unable to make our appointment. Unfortunately I’ve no child care for my little boy. Could we reschedule for later in the week?’
‘Later in the week doesn’t suit, Ms Heart.’ The man’s tone was furious. ‘May I suggest you bring your child with you into the office. We need to discuss terms today. Otherwise I can’t promise that this generous offer for your business will be on the table tomorrow.’
‘How’s it going?’ Antonio’s lazy question coming from the doorway made the accountant jump nervously as he put the phone down. He hadn’t noticed his boss standing there.
‘Everything’s in hand.’ The words were firmly decisive, but Tom Roberts looked anything but in control of the situation. In fact, he looked completely flustered.
‘I take it Ms Heart is still trying to give you the runaround?’ Antonio moved further into the office.
‘She’s trying to be a little elusive but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’
‘Hmm.’ For a second Antonio remembered the way Victoria Heart had approached him with her business idea this afternoon, fixing him with those wide green intelligent eyes.
Why he was thinking about that he didn’t know. He really had more important matters on his mind right now. He sauntered over to the fax machine by the side of Tom’s desk and took out the documents his lawyer had sent for him.
The sooner he relieved his father of his shares in the company, the better, he thought angrily as he scanned the details of his directive. The old man had obviously lost his sanity completely—either that or he was having some kind of laugh at his expense!
This pretence that he was giving him an ultimatum because he cared about him and wanted him to settle down instead of working so hard was frankly ludicrous! The only thing that Luc Cavelli had ever cared about was himself. And he’d always had an overinflated sense of his own importance, an arrogance that seemed to have spilled now into some kind of obsession with Antonio providing him with the future generation of the Cavelli family.
Please!
Antonio shook his head. He’d told his father once that he had no intention of ever marrying; and he’d meant it. He knew his limitations and he knew he wasn’t the settling-down type. He enjoyed his freedom too much, enjoyed playing the field. In that respect he was probably like his father—but unlike his father he thought about the consequences of his actions, and he believed in being honest with himself and with the women he dated. The mess of his parents’ marriage had been a stark warning against anything else.
As for bringing some poor unsuspecting child into the world just to gain some shares in a business, or to fulfil his father’s ambitions! Well, the man could think again. A child was the biggest commitment of all and definitely off Antonio’s agenda.
The old guy really had lost it if he thought for one moment he would do something so irresponsible!
But if the old guy had lost it—really lost it—what would that mean for the future of the company? The thought occurred to Antonio that whilst he could walk away back to his other company unscathed, there were thousands—literally thousands—of jobs on the line at Cavelli.
‘Anyway, I laid the law down to her,’ Tom Roberts was saying smugly. ‘Told her the deal wouldn’t be on the table tomorrow if she didn’t get herself down here.’
Antonio was barely listening. He had his back to the guy and was reading the directive from his father and the attached documentation.
I’m not getting any younger, Antonio. All I ask is that you marry and provide me with a grandchild. Once you have done that I will happily hand over all of my shares in the business to you.
‘Anyway, she came to heel pretty quickly. She knows we’ve made a damn good offer.’
Tom’s voice was like an annoying drone. ‘Great…’ Antonio murmured distractedly. He looked up from the papers in his hand and out of the window at the street below.
There was a taxi pulling up at the curb, and as Antonio watched he saw Victoria Heart step out onto the pavement.
It looked as if Tom was right. Well, that was one less problem to sort out, he told himself wryly. He was about to turn away when he noticed that she had a child in her arms and that she was struggling to get a pushchair out from the back seat.
He frowned. ‘I didn’t know that Ms Heart had a child.’
‘Yes, she’s a single mother. I did some digging when I was researching her. She’s never been married and there’s no man on the scene and no maintenance for the child.’ Tom’s voice was derisive. ‘Another reason why she can’t afford to turn us down.’
Antonio stilled.
‘Anyway, leave it with me,’ the man told him briskly. ‘I’ll have the deal signed and sealed for you within the next hour.’
‘I’ve changed my mind…’
‘Sorry?’ Tom looked over at him in surprise.
‘I’ve
